I'M BACK! And I have chapters so I can inflict the world with my writing "skills"! *evil laughter* Yes, be afraid. Be very afraid.

Really sorry for poofing everybody. Hopefully that will be the longest between updates, barring unavoidable acts of God/Gabriel. But good news is that I have the next few chapters lined up/partially written and needing revision. So! We good? Yes? No? Awesome! : D

I apologize for my hyperness.

My enternal thanks and shouts outs to the following: Elmo. (And if you need to ask why, then damn I've been gone far too long.) Luci's Angel (Again, I must have been gone for a LONG time.) Ellie (No promises for the future, but you already know the extent of my fangirlness. So breathe easy for the moment! ; )) And everyone else who has reviewed. Love you all! : D

ENJOY!

2007

"Nice night?" I asked dryly when Stella quietly let herself into the apartment around noon. "Morning too, or were you just sleeping it off?"

"Oh don't start, Nicky" she sighed.

"Where were you?"

"Please drop your holier-than-thou act, alright? Just because you can't get a guy, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me. I was with Marcus. We went on an actual date. You know, the thing you do when two people might like each other? It's a lot of fun."

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the sketch I was doing. There was this image stuck in my mind, and I just couldn't get it out. This was my third time sketching the same exact person. Sure, he was gorgeous with tousled blonde hair and startling blue eyes, but I don't know. There was just something inherently evil in him. "What are you doing anyway?" she asked, peering over my shoulder. "Now that man is freaking edible. Who was the inspiration for him? Anyone I know? Have you been holding out on me or something?" She grinned mischievously. "Should I be asking you how your night was?"

"What? No! Shut up" I grumbled as I began to sketch a sword of some sort that he was holding. To be honest, it gave me the creeps. "I had this dream last night and can't get him out of my head. I think his name is either Tyler or Naa… Nathan maybe?" Now there's a big jump in names. Why couldn't it have been Tyler and Tim or something? But no… Nathan. I gestured towards the pile of drawings I did earlier this morning. "Help yourself."

"Mystery Guy, Mystery Guy, Mystery Guy and… is this seriously the Hershey Man?" I glanced up, my brow creasing in confusion. Stella knew his story as well, if not better than I did. It was kinda hard to keep it a secret during some of my more obsessive stages. She never believed me when I said that he was a real person, but it was nice having someone who didn't look at me weird whenever I talked about him.

"Loki," I corrected quietly. Stella raised an eyebrow.

"Loki?" she repeated, "When did Hershey get a name change?"

"He didn't. I just… Forget it," I told her, grabbing the paper from her hand. Sure enough, Lo- Hershey was glaring at our Mystery Man from the bottom corner. Glaring might not be a strong enough word though. He looked absolutely murderous. "I don't remember drawing this."

"Weird," Stella commented before retreating into her bedroom. "But I gotta tell you, I think that's your best one of him yet."

"Yeah," I muttered. "Thanks." Now if I could only figure out why I drew him. I shrugged, and sighed when my pencil rolled off the edge of the table. I reached down to grab it, only to pause when I saw my hand. Weird, I know, but I could swear that I didn't have that scar yesterday. It looked almost like the letter 'S' was carved into my skin. "What the hell?"

For once, I had the best gossip before Stella did. The FBI was absolutely crawling over Crawford Hall. Crawling. And apparently on the trail of two serial killers/robbers/I don't even want to know. But the real kicker? It was Sam and Dean from the bar and supposed "alien abduction sight." Dean, sure, maybe I could see it. But Sammy? He seemed so nice, a never in a million years type of guy. I guess it really just goes to show how you can never really know.

The feds were asking that everyone who came in contact with the Winchester brothers come down to the local police station. By the time Stella and I got out of class and made our way down there, the place was packed. Somehow, I doubted that all of these people talked to Sam or Dean, especially with how the rumors were flying around campus. Suddenly, everyone was best friends with the pair. I didn't get it. Really. I didn't.

Stella and I got to wait together for a few hours in a room packed full of people before being led into separate interview rooms. It just looked like someone's office to me. The person conducting the interview was a tall, dark-haired woman. Even if she hadn't been wearing a suit, I could tell that she was a fed. Something about her just screamed false courtesy and sympathy. I immediately didn't like her. Something about her smile just felt… off.

"State your name and address for the camera please," she requested.

"Uhh… Nicolette Burns. I live on Thirteen Elm Street." She smiled her thanks before launching into the interview.

"How did you meet the Winchesters?"

"At a bar, Simon's. Sam told me he was a reporter, and was asking a few people about the Professor's death."

"Which professor was this?"

"Professor Cox. He taught my Ethics and Mortality class, and jumped out his office window about a week ago. I told Sam that I wasn't interested. He was nothing but polite. I really, really like him." She frowned slightly, and scribbled a note on the pad of paper she had in front of her. The motion didn't exactly comfort me.

"Was Dean there?"

"Yeah. He was hitting on my roommate, Stella Anderson. Sam and I broke it up, and I took Stella home."

"Was that the last time you saw them?" the agent asked.

"No. A couple of days later, we met up outside of Crawford Hall. This local frat guy was spreading this insane rumor, and when I went down to check it out, they were there too. We talked for a few minutes about him, and then I left so I could get to class."

"So you were… friendly with the pair?" I shrugged, not really sure if I liked this line of questioning.

"I guess. I mean, they seemed nice enough," I said carefully. "Sure, I think Dean was a little pissed that I helped break up him and Stel, but they didn't exactly strike me as the criminal type." The agent fixed me with a small smile, and somehow it was the most genuine thing I had seen her do.

"Unfortunately, not everyone is exactly as they seem. While you were with the Winchesters, did they say, do or ask you anything that you thought was strange or out of the ordinary?"

"Like what?"

"Just anything that stuck out to you as odd," she told me.

"Sorry, but the whole week was pretty odd. Two men died on campus, and another one was claiming that he was abducted by aliens. It's kinda hard to avoid strange questions with that kind of week."

"Of course. Did you ever hear about them talking about the occult? Did you see anything in their possession that struck you as out of the ordinary?"

"Nicolette, it's okay. Just calm down," Sam told me, holding his hands out wide. I glanced at the stake that was still in his hand, and he slowly put it down. "We just gotta make sure you're human."

"No," I lied with a shrug, blinking twice to clear the scene that had literally exploded, complete with fireworks and freaking trumpets, into my mind. "Nothing weird at all." The agent stared at me for a moment before nodding.

"Okay then. I think we have everything we need. Thank you." I smiled in return and got out of there as soon as I could. Did I really just lie to the FBI?

"Nicky, calm down."

"No! No! I will not come down!" I shouted. "Tyler exists! He's real and he's dead! He's dead, Stel! Stabbed! By that sword thingy I drew last week! How the hell am I supposed to be calm?"

It was a few days after the FBI had left, and Stella and I were watching the news as we made dinner. It had started off innocently enough. Warnings about an impending snow storm, some big scandal that the governor got involved in… the normal, everyday stuff. But then it switched (and I honestly have no idea why they were showing this in freaking Ohio. In hindsight, I would blame my favorite candy man) to the murder of a young man in Miami. He had been stabbed through the heart, and the imprint of crooked wings drawn on the floor underneath him. His name was Tyler Smithson, and he had supposedly murdered at least three girls, all of which looked rather similar to me. Now the police were looking for a vigilante. I already knew that they would never find him.

"So what then?" Stella asked me, for once trying to be the calm, responsible adult. "You're a psychic or something? Come on, you know that's crazy."

"No, that is crazy," I told her, pointing a shaking finger at the television screen. "This isn't a coincidence. It can't be." Stella sighed and turned it off. "I know how this must sound, but I… I think Hershey did this. Well, kinda. But I was there! And Hershey was there! And Tyler! And Loki had this halo behind him, and I thought he was one of the good angels! I drew that! I remember thinking that! And now I have all of these new scars, and I honestly don't know where they came from. Stel, don't look at me like that. Please. Loki is real! I..."

"You called him Loki again," she told me softly as she careful guided me down to the couch. "You've been doing that a lot lately."

"I know. But that's really his name."

"You're basing all of this off a dream though," she said gently.

"But it felt real, Stella. It wasn't like any dream I had before."

"Maybe you should talk to someone," she suggested, "You could rant to someone who actually knows what they're doing."

"But they wouldn't believe me," I argued.

"Nicky… I don't know if anyone can believe you. Hell, even I don't know if you've totally snapped or not."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I told her, a slightly hysterical note creeping up into my voice. Maybe I really was crazy. Loki couldn't be real. I had established that years ago… right? Sure, I never really believed that deep down, but logically he couldn't be real. It just wasn't possible. So maybe I really did belong in some padded room, locked away for the rest of my life, ranting about some made-up mystical being that supposedly murdered Daddy.

"Nicolette. Breathe. Calm down and then we can talk about this logically," Stella said firmly.

"There's nothing logical about this!" I hissed, "Loki killed him! I was there, damn it! And those women that Tyler killed! They kinda look like me, don't they?"

"They look like anyone with blonde hair," Stella told me, but I could see that she was starting to break. A little bit. Maybe. "Why were you even in Miami?" she asked.

"Because he freaking kidnapped me," I muttered. Stella raised an eyebrow in a silent question. "Lo – Hershey did. Well, first Sam and Dean did. But then Hershey got me out. I went to the police, they thought I was an accomplice for the Winchesters, and then I agreed to go to Miami with Loki so that all charges would be cleared. It was complicated." Stella nodded slowly.

"How did you meet Hershey?"

"Sam and Dean and some old guy that I never saw before were trying to kill him. I just happened to be in the wrong place at the worst possible time."

"Where?"

"Crawford Hall."

Stella nodded again and we sat in silence for a good ten minutes. I slowly became calmer and calmer, and I could think a little bit more clearly. It didn't really help matters though.

Eventually, Stella sighed and stood. "I am so going to regret this," she muttered before offering me a hand up. "Come on, Nicky. We're going to Crawford Hall." I took her hand and let her pull me up so that I was standing next to her.

"I think it was an auditorium on the first floor," I told her as we made our way to the door. "I forgot a notebook." Stella nodded quickly, and opened our apartment door into the drab looking hallway.

"Oh, paper came already," she said, bending down to grab it. She was about to toss it inside without a moment's glance when a headline caught my eye.

LOCAL MAN GOES MISSING. POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY.

"Stel…"

"Yeah?" I swallowed thickly, and pointed to the article, more specifically, the picture that was under it.

"Believe me now?" I asked. She frowned and turned the paper over. A moment later, it fell to the floor with a sharp smack. It landed with the article in question facing up, and a picture of a smirking Loki staring up at us.

Yeps. So review! Please! Especially if you hated it! I can't improve if I don't know! And just saying right now, the next chapter has a time jump of almost a year. Hopefully it'll be up by Saturday.

Byes!

AND REVIEW! : D